


Keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever

by knightinpinkunderwear



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Babies, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grandchildren, Grandparents & Grandchildren, M/M, Married Couple, Old Married Couple, Public Display of Affection, Retirement, Sappy, Sweet, romantic sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: A request from anon:  Nygmobblepot but when they're a bit older and their just living their life out in the countryside and Martin and Batgirl come to visit sometimesAfter a few years in and out of Arkham and Blackgate the City's most fearsome and not-so-secretly-married duo retire to legitimate business practices, wanting to simply enjoy life together.





	Keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is a Winnie the Pooh quote.

After a decade in and out of correction facilities, the illegal business that got them into those facilities got, well, less exciting. 

And less fun. The bat's reign of terror was far from over and the Cobblepots had simply grown tired of running from a beating given by a nutcase in what could be effectively called cosplay. 

Edward was especially tired of black eyes and punches to the jaw that brought back phantom pain from 20 years prior in Sofia Falcone's clutches. And he was sick of Arkham. He never wanted to see the place again, much less be forced to live there. (The prior ten years to the bat had solidified that.) So he discussed with Oswald (who'd been limiting his non-legal businesses in slow procession) and renounced being a public criminal. 

And a rogue. 

It just wasn't fun anymore.

With the Bat, he felt less and less the one in the spotlight. 

No one marveled at his perfect crimes, they gossiped about the caped crusader. So what was the point in trying to steal the stage in that way?

Besides, he was getting a bit old to be handed bi-weekly beatings. 

He wanted to be free to sleep in a bed with Oswald and the bird's wonderful Egyptian silk sheets every night of every year. 

He wanted to be free to sit next to lean into his husband's soft frame. 

He wanted to be free to bake and cook for Oswald, spoiling his plump bird like any good spouse ought to.

Maybe Martin (in his 30s already!) was also a large convincing force, married happily for two years with a sweet (and dangerous) young lady named Cecily, with a baby on the way. 

Their son was having a baby! (Well, technically Martin hadn't been their son until he was 21, but Edward found he adored the young man as much as his husband, who had drastically more history with the young man, did.)

After all, Martin had been the one to finally get them together, in those wonderful 6 months between reunification and Jim Gordon's grand hypocrisy. (It didn't matter that it had been 20 years now, Ed had missed so much of his life and time with Oswald, he would never forgive the Commissioner). 

Shortly after his rogue retirement, Oswald retired from most of his illegal dealings. And life was sweet. 

There was such a gentle joy in sleeping in, face cushioned against the pillowy chest of the man he loved. 

Oswald was, of course, more handsome than ever. With his salt and pepper hair, dignified monocle, and possibly the best part, a much thicker middle than when they'd first met, 24 or 26 years ago. 

He loved dozing while his husband ran fingers softly through his hair, gently soothing and massaging long past healed stitches along his scalp. 

He loved breakfasts with no rush or agenda, simply starting the day and enjoying the company. 

Edward never thought his life could ever be so happy, that someone could ever love him the magnitude that Oswald did. 

Oswald. 

The most magnificent man, regal with his age, and a true family man.

His love, his life, his dearest.

During any given week they had a few visitors at the mansion and did a few visits. 

They visited Martin and Cecily on wednesday afternoons, helping set up the nursery and spend some time with their son and daughter-in-law. Edward and Oswald both cried after getting to feel a kick from the fidgety soon-to-be grandbaby. 

Every once in awhile Barbara Lee would visit. She was a bright young thing, with a healthy ambition and seemed to have a few less of her father's bad qualities. 

Edward knew that he would never forgive Jeremiah Valeska for hurting her. All as a ploy to get to Jim. It was wrong. A child should never suffer because of their father. 

Well, she was 17 then, but still. 

Jeremiah did not have any personal morals it seemed, nothing he truly believed was wrong. Ed wished the bat would just kill him, or at least let Selina Kyle kill him again. 

Barbara Lee's visits were aided by a ramp that had been placed on the front steps originally for Oswald's knee and ankle. But it certainly came in handy. 

Barbara Lee liked to play chess and gossip about new technological advancements that had just started to hit the news. She had the sass of both of her mothers and her father as well as both of her namesakes' fire. 

In short, she was a lovely young lady. 

 

Life was sweet as the strawberries, soft and ripe, from the garden.  

Edward couldn't wait for every second of the future, having finally found a life to sink his teeth into and savor. 

He was a husband, a father, a soon-to-be grandfather. Ah, domestic bliss. 

The bliss part of the phrase much stronger than he'd ever first thought. 

Nothing was more satisfying than lying with Oswald until his joints ached, never wanting to move, no matter the stiffness and pain his physical form threw at him. 

Someday he'd find some way to merge his entire being in Oswald's heart so that they would always be together. 

So that not even death could part them. 


End file.
